Smoke and Mirrors
by xXCarlaLouiseXx
Summary: "This is simultaneously the worst and best job I've ever had. Its hell and heaven rolled into one dangerous yet fantastic package." AU. Multiple pairings, but mainly Bunny. Rating may change.


**A/N: Well hello there! Long time no see. To those of you who have read some of my previous fics I would just like to say that I am sooooooooooooo sorry for leaving my fics hanging like that. I've had such a crazy year with Aleves, counselling, starting up a cosplay group and enrolling into college (I'm doing more Alevels in English, Sociology and Film Studies). I also dabbled in writing for other fandoms, but it wasn't the same. I am back now though and have resumed writing my other fics. Just as a heads up Baby Doll will probably be my first update.**

**Anyways, this was originally going to be a Klaine fic because... well... I love Klaine at the moment, but I decided to go with Bunny because I want to get back into writing fics for South Park. I may rework it later on and submit it on my other account as a Klaine fic though. **

**Anyways, I hope you enjoy this story and maybe even review because that would really make my day :D . I'll even reply this time like I do on DA if you want me to... ah who am I kidding? You don't want to see my stupid thoughts clogging up your inbox lol. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.**

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><p><em>Hey, my name is Kenneth McCormick, but you can call me Kenny.<em>

_I'm officially the luckiest man alive._

_Why? You ask._

_Well that's simple. _

_I -Kenneth McCormick- am officially the luckiest man alive for one very simple yet very important reason…_

_I work at 'Nightlife', the hottest burlesque club in Colorado._

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><p>Ok so I know what you're thinking; "he must be a pervert if he works in a place like that." But trust me when I say that 'Nightlife' is nowhere near being a strip club. In fact it's actually one of the most respectable, CLEAN places in its area, which happens to be my hometown, South Park.<p>

Besides, I work behind the bar, which is on the complete opposite side of the room to the stage and –more importantly- the dressing room.

That's way too far away in my opinion.

I mean sure, I do often help the performers in and out of their –occasionally- skimpy outfits, but it's not like I'm some creeper who stares at their womanly parts while I'm doing it…Ok, so I do totally do that.

So what? I'm a dude. It's not like I'm gonna look the other way when there's a room full of majorly hot boobage right in front of me and I didn't even have to pay to get in there.

Anyways… my best friends, Eric Cartman and Kyle Broflovski, set up the bar a few years after they graduated from college. Everyone was so surprised when they found out that Kyle was involved, but I have this theory that deep down inside his head –hidden under all of that massive red hair- Kyle's thoughts are just as perverted as the next guy's. Of course this was all Cartman's idea to begin with; he's always looking for some way to get rich without moving a muscle. Kyle didn't even believe it would happen until the place was actually being built in front of him, and even then he had his doubts.

He soon changed his mind about the idea afterwards though. In a matter of months it had gone from "Just give up Cartman, this is never going to work and you know it," to "I may as well do the accounts for you, I am the one with the degree in Business Studies after all." Once Kyle was definitely on board Cartman offered me a position working behind the bar and the three of us have remained pretty much inseparable. Although we still drive each other insane sometimes.

And I don't care what that douchebag Craig Tucker says, Cartman hired me because I'm his best friend, my stunning good looks attract customers and I have mad cocktail making skills not out of pity for my financial situation... I think.

So here we are; part of one big, twisted, but fairly happy family.

Except this is South Park and if there's one thing I've learned it's that nothing is ever that simple in South Park.

My story's main complication takes the form of 'Nightlife's most popular performer and the first person I've ever had actual feelings for. At least, I think those are feelings. I used to think that maybe it was just gas, but you can't only feel 'just gas' around one specific person for like two whole years can you? If it is just gas then I probably have some major health issues.

"Hey K-Kenny, can you –uh- help me with my zipper?"

Speak of the devil.

"Uh… Kenny?"

Ok, so please do not laugh at me when I say this…

"Are you ok buddy?"

But some time during the gap between the end of high school and when 'Nightlife' opened…

"You look a little spaced out there Ken."

… Butters Stotch got seriously hot!

He works here as one of our performers and... well… I think I'm in love with him. No. I know I'm in love with him. It's like, as soon as he shimmied into that turquoise corset and took the stage as 'Marjorine', I've had the biggest crush on him. Shit, maybe I even liked him before that. There was that one week towards the end of high school where our friendship hit a rough patch. 'Rough patch' meaning that I had an uncontrollable urge to just jump him in the hallway and therefore I avoided him like the plague.

But what was I supposed to do? That guy is like my very own super best friend, and I wasn't going to ruin that by scaring the shit out of him and most likely earning myself yet another restraining order.

I eventually managed to convince myself that it was just hormones and things went back to the way they were… until Butters auditioned for a job here.

You see, all of the performers at this club are female, so Butters has to dress up like a girl. Obviously this was also –for the most part- Cartman's idea. However, Butters really doesn't seem to mind at all. In fact, if I didn't know any better, I would actually go as far as saying he enjoys being 'Marjorine' again. He loves performing so much and he's actually not that bad. He has always been an amazing dancer -though he refuses to talk about the early years of his career in dance - and his singing voice is also pretty damn good. So he's basically a natural. Cartman would had to have been a complete idiot not to give him the job.

However, Cartman, Kyle and I, now have to make sure no one else in this town figures out that the 'most talented female in South Park' is actually the most talented male in South Park .

Unfortunately for me this means that I have to see Butters skip through here in the most scandalous costumes –most of which show off those gorgeously long, smooth legs of his. In addition to that he wears corsets to create the illusion of my number one weakness; curves. Then he has this long, silky, blonde wig that frames his face perfectly and I'm secretly dying to run my fingers through it. If that wasn't enough to take me to the brink of insanity, I usually have to help him into these get ups, which means I have to touch that delicate, entrancing, smoking hot body of his, but I can't just take him because he's my best friend and it would absolutely destroy our relationship. All that is before he gets on stage, don't even get me started on the dance routines.

Ugh! It's so frustrating!

He just stands there like some evil temptress, biting that glossy bottom lip and batting those shimmering blue eyes, looking all perfect and lost and unsure and… holy shit he's doing it right now.

How could I not notice Butters being all sexy right in front of my eyes?

Oh yeah, because I was too busy thinking about Butters being all sexy right in front of my eyes.

"I'm sorry, what?" I ask because obviously this stunning creature has been trying to get my attention for a while.

"Are you ok?" He questions in that cute little voice of his, shuffling his feet slightly and twiddling his thumbs, looking up at me through thick, black lashes. Seriously, looking that cute should be illegal. "It's just… I asked if you could help with my zipper and…"

I can't help it, my inner perv kicks in and before I know it I've interrupted with a blunt and way too eager sounding "Hell yes." Then I have to correct it before the awkward silence kicks in. "Oh… uh… I mean… sure… I'd be happy to… uh… to help you... that is."

Really? I mean seriously? Kyle is smoother than this and he has absolutely no game whatsoever.

"Great… thanks Kenny," Butters mumbles, turning his back to me and holding his wig out of the way.

My first reaction is to let out a sigh of relief due to the fact that he didn't question my behaviour. Then my hands shakily make their way to the zip on his extremely short, extremely revealing, black dress –if you can even call it that. I swear my entire body is blushing -if that's even possible- as I slowly pull the zip upwards, being extra careful not to brush against his skin because I just don't think I can handle that much physical contact with him right now.

This is so fucking awkward.

I let out another relieved sigh when I finally reach the top and Butters steps away from me, hops into his killer heels and throws another quick 'thank you' over his shoulder before strutting –I'm not even kidding, this is torture- towards the stage, his hips wiggling a little as he goes.

Oh my God.

This is simultaneously the worst and best job I've ever had. Its hell and heaven rolled into one dangerous yet fantastic package. This whole situation is just so new to me. I mean I'm supposed to be like South Park's biggest player. I'm supposed to be the type of person who has a new partner every week. Yet here I am, unable to think about or feel for anyone other than my innocent and inexperienced super best friend. This doesn't happen to me. This is all just so overwhelming. I have no idea what to do about this.

At least there's no way this could possibly get any worse.

…Right?


End file.
